CHAPTER SEVEN
A cool breeze blew a smattering of leaves across the still damp sidewalk as Gabe and Lindy walked home after school. She talked and talked, as usual, but he paid little attention until she moved in front of him, forcing him to stop.
“Halt!” Hands on her hips, her eyes glared at him.
He recognized the look and tone of voice. Something had pissed her off. He didn’t hesitate. “Yes, ma’am. I’m halted.”
“Please, answer me.”
“Um.” He blinked. “Um.”
Her eyes sparkled when she did her famous eyeroll and wrinkled nose twist. “You didn’t hear a word I said, did you?”
Normally, he’d have given in or said something silly like, “Heh? Repeat, please. I got my eye tooth twisted around my ear and can’t hear you,” but after his day, Gabe’s body cried out for rest and peace. He held his
